


Life is Simple in the Moonlight

by haleboundride



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But no Full Shift Sex, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, No wolfy sex at all, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleboundride/pseuds/haleboundride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles should probably be scared, he thinks to himself as he stares down the massive creature that just charged into the clearing. His admittedly often-ignored sense of self preservation should have kicked in by now, he's sure, but instead a sense of calm, a sense of peace, washes over him and settles into his bones.</p><p>My entry for the 2014 Sciles Reversebang, <a href="http://ileliberte.tumblr.com/post/93076304509/scott-stiles-full-moon-night-full-wolf-scott">based on art</a> by the incredible <a href="http://ileliberte.tumblr.com/">ileliberte</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life is Simple

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you thank you to my incredible artist [ileliberte](http://shirtlesspeter.tumblr.com/) for a [stunning piece of art](http://ileliberte.tumblr.com/post/93076304509/scott-stiles-full-moon-night-full-wolf-scott), and my amazing beta [shirtlesspeter](http://shirtlesspeter.tumblr.com/).

Stiles should probably be scared, he thinks to himself as he stares down the massive creature that just charged into the clearing. His admittedly often-ignored sense of self preservation should have kicked in by now, he's sure, but instead a sense of calm, a sense of peace, washes over him and settles into his bones. It's the first time he's felt something other than fear, desperation and frustration since he woke up here, tied to a tree, rough bark biting into his back even through layers of clothing. And oddly enough, the thing that's brought him this feeling of reassurance is the largest wolf he's ever seen, snarling and growling, teeth bared and eyes glowing red as he advances toward Stiles.

Or rather, advancing toward the shadows of the forest behind Stiles, where an answering growl is rising from the darkness. At this, Stiles smiles, the expression creeping slowly across his face, spurred by a burst of confidence. "Get 'im, Scotty," he whispers to the wolf in front of him, and he could swear the wolf winks before dashing off, tearing past Stiles into the trees. Later, Stiles will have the luxury of wondering what the hell is going on - how Scott is suddenly a huge, dark wolf, how Stiles knows that it's him - but for now, all he can do is listen to the snarls and the crashing of underbrush, and wait for his best friend. Because no matter what he looks like right now, Stiles _knows_ , knows bone-deep, that it's Scott McCall who just showed up to save the day.

It's not long before the sounds die off, and the last thing he hears is a mournful howl. Then he's alone, alone with the sounds of the preserve at night, alone to count his own heartbeats and wait to see just who will be returning for him. Time stretches on, the thrum of his heart growing louder and louder until the moment that a wet, snuffling nose presses into the palm of his hand. 

His startled, relieved laugh breaks the tension in the night air. "Scotty, my boy," he manages shakily, "you are a sight for sore eyes. Or not eyes, exactly, because I can't see you, but if you can just change back and untie me we can fix that, right? Scott?" There's no answer, but he can feel the motion as sharp fangs start to chew at the rope that binds him, and he figures that's as good a way to get him free as anything. 

When his hands are free, Stiles lets himself fall to his knees, stretching his arms and rotating his wrists to try to get some blood flowing back into them, after being tied so long. He’s not even sure how long he’s been there, but he’s fairly certain that it was mid-afternoon when he’d fallen asleep with his face in a textbook, studying for the next week’s history exam. The next thing he knew, he was groggily coming to in the preserve, staring into the glowing orange eyes of a crazed-looking omega wolf. He’d half been expecting some sort of Bond villain monologue, about his plans to infiltrate the pack or bring down the Beacon Hills Alpha or whatever other insane thing he’d expected to get away with, but before he’d done much more than growl, they’d been interrupted by the giant wolf. By _Scott_. Scott who is now insistently nosing at Stiles’s cheek, trying to pull his attention back to the present.

Raising his head, Stiles gives Scott a tired smile. “Yeah, buddy, I’m with you. I was just wondering what the hell was going on. What does it say about my life that I’m _relieved_ that it was only a werewolf that came after me, and not anything worse?” He reaches out to rest a hand on Scott’s head, thumb rubbing gently up and down between red eyes, unable to help his soft laughter when the wolf’s mouth drops open, tongue hanging out in a pleased-looking pant. “You’re pretty fucking cute, you know that?” 

Scott snaps his teeth playfully at Stiles, but then he’s pressing forward, crowding against Stiles’ chest, furred head coming down heavily on human shoulder. After a moment Stiles relaxes into it, wrapping his arms around the soft, furry body and burying his face in the wolf’s ruff. It’s there, holding tightly to his best friend, that he finally lets go, lets things sink in. They stay like that for longer than either of them know, taking comfort in each other, being reassured that they’re both okay, that they’re still together, that once again they’ve come out the other side of danger. 

Eventually, Stiles sits back, and the two regard each other intently in the growing dark of the clearing, both of them sluggish and weary from a day with a little too much adventure. “So… you’re a wolf,” he begins. “I mean, you’ve been a wolf for ages, but now you’re an _actual_ wolf. Which is really cool, but how did that happen? How did you transform, _why_ did you transform? And why am I asking you questions when you can’t answer me?” He shakes his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his own hair. The wolf sitting across from him somehow manages to look amused, head cocked to one side. 

“Wait,” Stiles says suddenly. “Why can’t you answer me? Why are you still a wolf?” Reaching out, he takes Scott’s chin in one hand and turns his head gently from side to side. “Are you stuck? Oh my god, did you actually get stuck as a wolf? Because that’s the kind of hilarious tragedy that would totally happen to us.” 

Whining softly, Scott pulls his head out of Stiles’s hand stubbornly. He glares for a moment, then gives a quick nod of his head. The confirmation has Stiles chuckling, long fingers starting to move over Scott’s fur, gently pulling free bits of leaves and twigs, letting them fall back to the forest floor.

“Well, okay. We’re going to deal with this in steps, okay, Scotty? Let’s get you cleaned up, first. We’re in the middle of nowhere, neither of us have the energy to get all the way back into town… we’ll bed down for the night, okay? If nothing else, my furry best friend is going to be a great pillow,” he teases, laughing harder when Scott bares his teeth and growls playfully.

Stiles stands slowly, stretching out tense muscles. He feels the vertebrae in his back pop one after the other, a long line of pressure being relieved in steps. He rests one hand between the wolf's ears, giving a little scratch. "Come on, Scotty, let's get you all cleaned up. All that crud in your fur can't feel good for you." He starts walking down toward the river, shrugging out of his plaid shirt as he goes. With the shirt draped over one arm, he pulls out his phone and sends a text to the Sheriff and Melissa both, a simple _we’re alive, don’t worry, home in the morning we promise._ It should be enough to keep them from panicking, even if he’ll still have to tell the full story later. He’s used to the explaining, even pretty good at it.

As they reach the water, Scott goes bounding ahead, splashing into the stream with gusto, and Stiles can't help but laugh. "I knew you'd want to get clean,” he grins, feeling a little proud of himself for being able to read his best friend this well, even when he's four-legged and furry. At the bank, Stiles toes off his shoes and socks, drops his overshirt with them. "I'll help you out in a sec, man, I just don't want to get soaking wet.”

Watching expectantly from the water, Scott wags his tail, already soaked up to his belly. When Stiles starts to shimmy out of his underwear, the wolf looks away suddenly, averting his eyes. Stiles lets out a laugh, but the tips of his ears flush pink. "What, suddenly shy? It's not like you've never seen me naked before."

Scott makes a soft sound that Stiles can't quite interpret, but he looks back and levels Stiles with his gaze - eyes still kept deliberately on Stiles' face, even though it's so far above the wolf’s eye level.

Stiles probably should have eased himself into the water, he realizes with a painful start as he splashes in, dropping to his knees. Icy pinpricks race across his skin, upwards to his waist, toes clenching in a cramp. He hadn't expected it to be so freezing with the way Scott had taken to it, but then again his best friend _is_ currently sporting thicker than normal skin and a soft, plush fur coat.

Teeth chattering, he sets himself to look more closely at said fur coat, shining golden brown in the moonlight, darker where it's wet and slicked against his skin . He can't resist reaching out to run his hand down Scott's back, humming contentedly at how soft it feels against his own cool, damp palms. When he hears a soft rumble emanating from the thickly furred chest, he realizes Scott likes it too. His face breaks into a sudden grin. "You like being petted, buddy? You're not a dog, you're a big old house cat, trying to purr!" His laugh is cut off by a pair of huge paws landing on his shoulders, and instead he cries out in protest as he crashes backward into the frigid water.

He's sputtering and spitting when he comes up for air and he glares at Scott. "You're looking altogether too smug for someone who's stuck with paws and a tail, my friend," he teases. His words earn him a snap of teeth and another lunge from Scott, and a moment later they're locked together, rolling over and over as they wrestle in the creek, laughter and joyful yips ringing out in the night air. It's free and unrestrained, a celebration of being okay, of being alive and able to enjoy themselves again.

It takes time for them to exhaust themselves, but as their laughter dies down Stiles sits up and points out a bruise forming on his arm. "Hey, hey. Come on, Mr. Wolf, you gotta be more gentle. Fragile human here, remember?" He expects an eye roll or tease from Scott, not what actually happens - Scott hanging his head in apology, leaning in gently to lap at the bruise with a rough tongue.

"Kissing it better? Good, I deserve it." Stiles thinks he might sound a little bit breathless, but he shakes it off. "Come on, dude, you're still pretty gross. Let's get you actually clean."

Apparently ready to behave now, Scott sits down in the water, close to Stiles. "Is this where I tell you you're a good boy?" he quips, earning himself a gentle nip of reproach. "Okay, okay, just kidding. Apparently wolves don't have a sense of humour," he grumbles good-natured as he starts to scoop up handfuls of water, sluicing it over Scott's fur. As he works, he keeps pulling bits of twigs and pine needles from between soft strands, smiling when the rumbling form presses closer to him. "There you go, big boy. Just let Stiles take care of you."

Stiles hums to himself without realizing it, soft and under his breath, as he takes his time to get Scott clean. He gives in to his curiosity, too, nimble fingers exploring the wolf form as much as he dares. For once he feels no need to talk, to keep up a stream of constant chatter, so he lets the silence wrap around them like a comfortable blanket. He focuses intently on Scott, the shape of this body under the fur, the way he responds to different touches by either pressing into them or carefully moving away. When he does move away it seems almost reluctant, like he doesn't want to hurt Stiles' feelings by rejecting the touch. It makes Stiles smile softly and return his hands to places that please the wolf. His default is scratching right at the base of the bushy tail, which seems to be Scott's favourite spot of all.

The way Stiles pulls away when he knows that Scott's all clean _is_ reluctant, which surprises him a little. The simple comfort of being close, of touching, of caring for someone he loves, that was the most comforting thing that had happened yet this night. If he didn't already know that Scott felt the same, it would have been made obvious by the way that Scott leans in and rests his head heavily on Stiles' shoulder, nosing below his ear for a brief moment.

"Hey," Stiles says softly, "let's dry off. Then we can curl up, okay? Keep each other warm, you know, mostly so the one of us without a fur coat won't freeze overnight." He blushes a bit as he explains his reasoning, even though he's fairly certain, in that moment, that Scott still wants the contact as much as he does. As he watches the wolf bound out of the stream and start to shake out his fur, he feels like Scott is silently telling him to hurry up. 

So Stiles does just that, getting off of his knees and shaking out his own hair as he steps onto the bank. "I can't shake as well as you. Not furry enough," he chuckles, scrubbing his hands over his hair to get out some more moisture. 

Scott doesn't stay still for long, padding off into the woods. "Hey, hey, wait while i at least grab my clothes! He scoops them up off the ground into an untidy pile, holding them to his chest as he follows his best friend, his alpha, further into the forest.

They walk together for a while, slowly and aimlessly, mostly keeping the air moving over their skin so that they'll dry off sooner. Neither of them has enough energy for much more than that. When Stiles is dry enough, he stops Scott for long enough to put on his clothes, so that he can at least stop shivering. He can see Scott's fur getting fluffier and fluffier as it dries, and after a while he reaches out and rests a hand on the wolf's back to still him. "I think it's bedtime, buddy," he yawns. Scott lifts his own head, and opens his muzzle wide in a yawn of his own, tongue lolling out. Stiles laughs and ruffles the fur on top of Scott's head. "Come on, over here, there's a pretty good bed of moss and leaves under these trees.”

As he flops down, Stiles laughs to himself at the absurdity of looking at the forest floor as a comfortable place to get some rest. Still, he reasons, it's better than some of the places he's woken up, back when it wasn't just him inside his head. And he's got Scott, too, which always makes it better. It's become fairly common for the two of them to share a bed, since the Nogitsune. Neither the Sheriff nor Melissa raises an eyebrow, any longer, at waking to find the two friends curled together in bed. It's like it was when they were children - when Stiles's mom died, when Scott's dad left, times when the two boys clung together and their parents couldn't bear to separate them. When everyone knew they were each other's only real comfort.

So tonight, if he's got Scott, he's fine. He's better than fine, as he curls in close against the wolf's muscular body, head coming to rest on the soft, thick fur. He can hear Scott's heartbeat, feel his warmth, and that's all he's aware of as he finally drifts off to sleep.


	2. In the Moonlight

It's early when Stiles wakes, the sun not yet casting its rays beyond the trees, even though the sky is beginning to lighten in the east. It's a familiar way to wake up, tangled in Scott - who Stiles realizes, with a smile, shifted back to his own form at some point over the night. What's not familiar about this morning (okay, other than the fact that they're snuggled into a bed of dead leaves) is the fact that Scott is very, completely, and utterly _naked_. Yep, that part is definitely new, even combined as it is with the familiar feeling of Scott drooling quietly on Stiles' shoulder. 

Stiles tries not to look as he slides out from under Scott and sits up. He can't see much in the pale morning light, anyway, so at least that'll stop him from staring. He's never been sure exactly when he started looking at Scott in less of a platonic way and more of a _holy shit you're gorgeous_ way, but it's something that's been growing for a while, now. He's sure it doesn't hurt that Scott has been his rock, been his _anchor_ , through the hardest times in Stiles' life. If Stiles was a werewolf, Scott would be his _literal_ anchor, it's a simple fact that everyone knows.

Thinking about this fondly, Stiles slips out of his plaid overshirt and lays it over his sleeping best friend. He smooths it out, soft smile growing wider as the sleeping werewolf settles comfortably under the well-worn fabric, taking a deep breath and inhaling its scent. Something about the scent of Stiles seems to please Scott, and a tiny smile curves his lips even as he sleeps. Doing his best to ignore the way the smile makes his heart flutter, Stiles lays down again and curls protectively, possessively around Scott.

When Stiles wakes again the sun is bright in the sky, and he and Scott are tangled even more completely together. His attempt to preserve Scott's modesty seems to have failed, as the shirt is now underneath them, and Scott is once again bare with the line of his body pressed against Stiles. Their legs are twisted together, arms wrapped around each other, and Scott must be able to tell that Stiles is awake from where he lies with his face pressed against Stiles' neck, against his pulse point, because he speaks up softly.

"Morning," is all he says, voice rusty from disuse and sleep.

Stiles can't help his grin. As much as he'd loved the wolf form, been intrigued by it, he's pleased to have his Scott back the way he likes him best. Not that naked is the way he likes him best, he mentally backpedals, although it _is_ kind of nice. "Morning yourself, Sleeping Beauty. Or is it Beast, as in 'Beauty and the'?" He teases, nuzzling his cheek against Scott's hair.

Scott snorts, and Stiles can practically feel the way he rolls his eyes. "Does that make you Belle, then?" He tosses back easily, nosing against Stiles' neck. Stiles doesn't protest, relishing the affectionate gesture.

"I don't think Belle would have let beast get naked with her in the woods," Stiles laughs, even as part of him wonders if he really should be addressing that. 

The answering laugh is easy and warm, though, and Scott's arm actually tightens around his best friend's waist. "Are you offended by my gratuitous nudity, dude?" he muses, although he seems as if he's already guessed what the answer is.

"Gratuitous. Word of the Day?" Stiles snips, tone still affectionate. He finds Scott's determination to learn more, to improve himself, something to be admired. One more reason to love Scott McCall, as if he needed one more. With his dedication and determination, it's no wonder that he would be the True Alpha. "And, no. Surprisingly - or not, whatever - I've actually got no complaints about naked man-snuggles. But where did your clothes end up, anyway?"

"I, uh... I was wearing them," Scott says softly, and with the way his face is still pressed to Stiles' neck, Stiles can feel a blush heating his cheeks. "When I shifted into the wolf form."

"Which, by the way, is really fucking cool, but we'll talk about that in a minute. Your clothes, did they tear off, or something? Like, Hulk-style? Scotty smash?"

At first, only another snort answers him, but he can feel that Scott is still blushing. "They ripped a bit. But the wolf form got all tangled in them, and I had to get to you. So I sort of tore them off. With...with my teeth," he admits.

That's enough to bring Stiles up short, his breath catching in his throat. "You shredded your clothes with your fangs so that you could get to me faster," he repeats, as if trying to clarify. Something about that strikes him as being totally romantic, which probably just goes to show how much running with werewolves has skewed his world view.

"I had to get to you," Scott repeats, more softly this time. Which, of course, is exactly when Stiles notices Scott's thumb rubbing gentle circles into his skin, just below the hem of his shirt. Once he's noticed it, it's all he can feel, and he lies completely still for a moment as he licks his dry lips, tries to catch the breath that's escaped him again.

"You did, Scotty," he finally answers, hearing his voice catch. "you got me. You saved me. I...shit, there's a dead werewolf out there for us to take care of today, isn't there." He lets out a startled laugh when Scott shakes his head emphatically. “There isn’t?”

Scott shakes his head again, but this time it’s more of a nuzzle than anything else. “He’s gone. He’s wounded. He was bleeding everywhere… later today, I’ll get Derek, we’ll track him. Make sure he’s gone. But I really don’t think there’s any way he’s coming back. He was terrified when he ran off, didn’t realize such a young alpha would be such a challenge.” Scott sighs. “He grabbed you to lure me out, but he got more than he bargained for.”

Nodding, Stiles kisses Scott’s hair without really thinking about it. Realizing he's broken the gentle mood of the moment, he decides to press ahead with questions. "Okay, adding ‘track the omega werewolf’ to the mental to-do list. Next question - how the hell were you a wolf? Because that was amazing, but still. What the hell, dude?"

Scott is silent for a long moment, long enough for Stiles to start wondering if maybe he shouldn't have asked that question. He's just opening his mouth to take it back when Scott speaks up again. "I lost control," he says, almost a whisper. "I lost control of the wolf."

Somehow, Stiles can tell that it's not the moment to speak, yet; that Scott needs more time. So he closes his eyes and waits, until Scott continues. "After everything that's happened, Stiles. After everything we saved you from, you were gone, and it was a fucking werewolf. A simple fucking rogue omega snatched you out from under my nose. I was so mad at myself, so scared that I was going to lose you to something I should have prevented. And I lost control. There was anger, and there was pain. And then there was just the wolf, trying to get to you. Willing to tear the world apart to get you back."

The pain in Scott’s voice sends a pang straight to Stiles’ heart, and his arms wrap more tightly around his best friend. He presses his face tightly into the tangled mess of Scott’s hair. “Hey, no. It’s okay, Scotty. You didn’t lose control, not really. Not all the way. Because if you’d lost control, that omega would have been dead. That, that’s what wolves do, what wild animals do. But you were still _you_. Dorky, honorable, caring Scott McCall, who even as a giant furry, scary wolf still didn’t kill anyone. Still didn’t do anything that couldn’t be recovered from. Still didn’t take a life.” His voice is soft, reassuring, as one hand starts to run up and down Scott’s back.

Scott lets out another soft, pained sound, and squirms as if he’s trying to get even closer to Stiles. “I still had no control over the transformation. I’d never… everything we’ve been through, and this didn’t come out. I don’t know if it’s because I’m more of an alpha now? Or maybe it’s because I was caught off-guard. I didn’t know something bad was coming, I had no way to prepare myself, to steel myself for this, and there I was. A wolf. And I couldn’t change back. I wasn’t me again until I was here with you. Calm, relaxed, and sure that you were safe.”

Stiles can feel himself blushing, overwhelmed again by the thought that Scott’s wolf had emerged to save him, to save _Stiles_ , that now was when that primal side of Scott had chosen to show itself. He lets out a soft sigh, and keeps rubbing Scott’s back. “It wasn’t your fault that any of this happened, you know. Just because it wasn’t some world-ending Buffy-esque Big Bad doesn’t mean that there wasn’t danger, or that you should have been able to see it coming. We were both caught off guard, and that’s still going to happen sometimes.” He pauses, presses another gentle kiss to Scott’s hair, this one more conscious than the last. More deliberate.

“And as for the transformation… we’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out together, Scott, I promise. We’ll work on this, we’ll find your big alpha wolf-y control. It’s in there, Scott. It’s in you. I believe in that… I believe in you.” 

As Stiles speaks, his hand slides up Scott’s back, until it’s gently cupping his neck. He uses his thumb to slowly guide Scott’s chin up, dipping his own until they’re face to face, eye to eye. “I believe in you, Scott McCall,” he repeats softly, his eyes wide and his blush growing deeper.

There’s a long moment of silence, of stillness, where it seems like there’s barely a sound in the woods around them. Like the two of them are alone in the world. The moment doesn’t break as they edge closer together, pulled in without thinking about it, like it’s all been leading up to this, to now, to the gentle first touch of lips on lips.

Stiles doesn’t know if he kissed Scott or the other way around, thinks that maybe it wasn’t either. Thinks that maybe the kiss just happened, inevitable, not needing either of them to initiate it. But there it was, Scott’s lips soft even though they were dry, pressing gently, not seeking anything more. And even though it was there in the woods, laying on a bed of twigs and leaves, there was nothing else Stiles could have wanted for their first kiss.

After another few heartbeats, lips still touching, both of them let their eyes open. Scott instantly looks sheepish, cheeks and the tips of his ears colouring. He pulls back in a hurry, as far as the circle of Stiles’s arms will let him.

Feeling his heart sink, Stiles can’t help the soft sound of loss that escapes him. His brow furrows as he looks at his best friend questioningly. “Scotty?” he prompts, softly.

Scott’s eyes snap back to Stiles’, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I’m sorry. I just… you were being so _you_ , he says softly, a smile in his warm brown eyes. “You were the one who was kidnapped, the one who was in danger, but you were comforting me. It should be the other way around, but… but even when I’ve just saved you from dying, _you’re_ taking care of _me_. It’s…” he pauses, blushes further. “It makes it so easy to love you,” he blurts in a hushed tone.

Before he even realizes it, Stiles is throwing back his head and laughing. Relief and joy course through him, and he laughs harder when he sees how confused Scott looks right now. “Oh my god, and _you’re_ so _you_. Apologizing because you love me? Complete with blushing and big brown puppy eyes. That’s classic, 100% Scott McCall, right there. Self-sacrificing True Alpha… it makes it so easy to love _you_.”

There’s another few heartbeats of silence, as both boys process what they’ve just said. Stiles isn’t sure he’d even realized, before now, that it was completely true. That he loved Scott, in so much more than a _yeah he’s hot, but he’s my brother_ way. But it was true. God, it was true, so overwhelmingly true that he didn’t know how the realization hadn’t smacked him in the face earlier. Their kiss of a moment ago hadn’t just been a normal extension of their lifelong physical closeness, it had been an extension of their feelings for each other. As Stiles watches Scott’s face, he can see that he’s processing too, see the surprise and then the gentle smile that cross his features. He barely has time to register how beautiful Scott’s eyes are when they light up with joy before the alpha is on him, kissing Stiles like he’s never been kissed before.

He’s had kisses that have physically taken his breath away. Lydia had proved that when she stopped a panic attack with a press of her lips. But this kiss _takes his breath away_ , in the way that they write songs and poems and stories and movies about. It flutters his stomach and curls his toes and makes his heart race just as surely as it steals the air from his lungs. “Scotty,” he says again, but this time it’s a soft gasp against his best friend’s lips, one that’s instantly swallowed as Scott’s kiss grows more insistent, more demanding. His alpha claiming him with nothing but his lips. 

Stiles responds to the claim eagerly, groaning softly as he parts his lips, lets Scott lick into his mouth. He’s seen Scott kiss before, always thought it looked like he put his entire being into every kiss, and now he can confirm it. Scott McCall kisses with every inch of himself, with everything that he’s feeling, and the utter commitment leaves Stiles shaking in the strong embrace. “Scotty.” A third time, and this one is a low groan, hips instinctively rocking up against the boy in his arms. 

Scott’s answer is an open-mouthed groan of his own, as he wetly drags his lips up Stiles’ jaw, inch by agonising inch, with a heat that feels like it’s branding Stiles’ skin. He thinks he’ll be able to feel this for days, every touch seared into him, changing him, reminding him that he belongs to Scott. Because he does, he knows that now, as surely as Scott belongs to him. They’re each other’s, they have been for so long now, and this - here - is exactly where they’re meant to be. 

Stiles lets go now, no longer holding anything back. Because he doesn't have to, not with Scott, his Scott. He's safe to relax and explore and feel, feel all the things that are washing over him. His arms come up around Scott, hands on his bare back, and that seems to be the cue that Scott needs to crawl on top of Stiles and suck a mark into the skin below his ear. 

If he was less distracted, Stiles would probably be embarrassed by the mewling sounds he's making, the way he's writhing underneath the alpha werewolf. But it seems to egg Scott on, encourage him to leave mark after claiming mark in a line down Stiles' neck to his shoulder. And Stiles wants every one of those marks, more of them, in places where the whole world can see them and in places that are just for the two of them. 

Scott lets out a throaty laugh. "I think that I can do that," he answers, the sudden gust of breath tickling Stiles' ear. 

Stiles grins sheepishly as he realizes that he said all of that out loud. "Yeah? Then get to it, Scotty," he taunts, words trailing off into a groan as Scott starts to slide down toward Stiles' waist, intent on the button of his jeans. "Yeah," he breathes. "Please, get them off. I am so completely overdressed right now. If you need to claw them off, or do the teeth ripping thing-" 

"Stiles." Scott's voice is firm, but tinged with amusement as he cuts Stiles off, fingers tugging down the zipper, flicking the button open. "It's okay. I've got fingers this time. No clothing damage necessary." His hands urge Stiles' hips upward, and he slides jeans and underwear down in one motion. "There... Just like that." His voice is breathier now, and Stiles can't help thinking that it's him who's making Scott sound this way, feel this way. It sends a thrill through him that has him laughing along with Scott. 

Stiles’ laughter is immediately cut off, though, when he feels that hot breath somewhere different this time, ghosting across his cock. There’s no point in being shy now, not with his hardness showing off just how much Scott is affecting him, so he just groans and rolls his hips up as he looks for more contact, looks for more _Scott_. “Scotty, please, please,” he gasps, not even sure what he’s asking for, just knowing that he still needs something more, needs everything that Scott is willing to give him. 

At the first tentative touch of Scott’s tongue, Stiles feels like he’s going to shake out of his skin, fisting handfuls of the dead leaves that they’re lying in. “Jesus fu- _Scott_ ,” he gasps, and there’s another puff of hot air as Scott laughs again. Stiles’ eyes roll back in his head, his own groans echoing in his ears as he gets his first blowjob. From Scott. From Scott McCall, alpha werewolf, and the most gorgeous guy that Stiles has ever seen. Somehow that’s even more unbelievable than even Scott changing into a wolf, and if it wasn’t for the pain of the twigs and rocks digging into his back through his t-shirt, he might even have trouble believing this isn’t a dream.

The sensation of Scott’s lips wrapping around the head stills him, somehow, even the endless parade of thoughts through his mind. It’s like he freezes, in a moment that belongs to him and Scott and no one else. Opening his eyes, he looks down just in time to watch Scott bring one hand up, tanned fingers wrapping around the shaft and giving a gentle stroke, and _holy wow_ it’s taking everything he has not to thrust up into that warm, perfect touch. 

“Oh my god, Scotty, you’re pretty good at this for a beginner.” Even as he’s laying panting on the ground, he can’t quite resist teasing. “Never felt anything like this. Big alpha werewolf with his lips stretched wide around my cock, covered in leaves on the forest floor… should have known our first time wouldn’t be anything normal.” He laughs breathlessly, reaching down to sink the fingers of one hand into Scott’s hair. 

Scott’s answering chuckle sends vibrations through Stiles’ erection, and draws a loud gasp from his lips. Stiles is already embarrassingly close, just because this is Scott. That knowledge alone is almost enough to drive him over the edge. “Scotty, Scott, Scott, if you’re gonna pull off now is the time. ‘Cause you’re about to get a serious mouthful, I’m not gonna be able to- _oh, god!_ ” Because suddenly Scott is sucking harder, sinking down far enough that Stiles can hear a gagging sound and that’s it, he’s done, screaming his best friend’s name into the forest as he shakes through what is absolutely, undoubtedly the best orgasm of his life. A+ orgasm. A perfect 10 from every judge.

Laying panting in the leaves, Stiles smiles weakly as Scott slides up his body to bring their lips back together again. “Okay for my first try?” he asks softly, and Stiles can hear the uncertainty in his tone. 

“Oh god, yes, Scotty. So good. The best I’ve ever felt, don’t you worry,” he assures Scott as he starts to scatter kisses all over Scott’s face, finally ending up on his lips. “Just perfect. Perfect.”

Scott lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a purr, leaning into the kisses with a blissed-out smile on his face. “Good… good. You deserve perfect,” he says softly as Stiles showers him in love. After a few moments, their lips find each other again, this kiss slow and lazy. Stiles smiles against Scott’s lips as he feels the cock that’s hard against his hip, Scott’s hips starting to slowly rock forward. He ruts gently until Stiles settles a hand on his ass and starts tugging Scott down, urging him to take more.

“That’s it, take what you need,” Stiles breathes. “If we were at home I’d give you more, I’d give you everything. I’d crawl on my hands and knees, let you open me up and fuck me for real, you know I would.”

This time Scott’s groan is closer to a growl, as he ruts against Stiles harder and faster. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Yeah, I want that. I want to fuck you, Stiles, I want to be the first. I want to take you, I want to claim you, please. Show you just how much I love you, give you all my love.” He’s barely coherent, words coming out in a babbling stream, but they have Stiles’s cheeks heating as he listens to them.

“You’re loving me right now,” Stiles murmurs low, lips moving to Scott’s ear. “You’re always loving me, it’s what you do. And now you can love me all the way, just like I wanted. Exactly like I wanted, buddy, even when I didn’t know I wanted it.” And okay, maybe it’s weird to call Scott ‘buddy’ when they’re like this, but all of the old nicknames still seem appropriate, because it’s still them, Scott and Stiles, Stiles and Scott - just like always, but with added features. Awesome added features, amazing added features, super _freaking_ fantastic added features, actually, Stiles’ orgasm-addled brain supplies.

But Stiles has other things to think about right now, like Scott getting some awesomeness for himself, so he squeezes Scott’s ass with one hand as he encourages his friend to grind against him harder and faster, listens to the way Scott is panting. “Just like that, Scotty, just like that. You’re perfect, you’re everything. And I know you want to come for me, all over me. Bet your wolf would love that, love the way I’d smell like you.”

There’s an actual, honest-to-god growl from Scott this time, his eyes flashing red as he drives himself toward his orgasm, frantically seeking the release he needs. When Stiles presses one dry finger against his entrance, that’s when the werewolf comes undone, nearly howling as he comes in long stripes up Stiles’ skin, over his ribs. As Scott flops down against Stiles’ side, smearing his own mess all over both of them, Stiles is grinning in something that feels a little (okay, a lot) like triumph. “That was awesome, Scotty my man,” he crows, running a hand down Scott’s arm.

“Definitely awesome,” Scott agrees, playfully running a hand down Stiles’ side as a cover for rubbing his cum into Stiles’ skin, even though they both know exactly what he’s doing. Stiles wouldn’t stop him anyway, he loves the possessiveness behind the action. But when Scott grows quiet, Stiles makes a soft, questioning sound, raising his head.

“Scotty?” He brushes Scott’s hair back in an affectionate gesture. “You okay?”

Scott’s smile is gentle, but Stiles can feel the love in it. “I’m okay. I’m better than okay. You said you love me,” he points out.

“Well, yeah,” Stiles shrugs a bit, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“But you didn’t mean it the same way, did you. You didn’t mean it like your best friend, or your brother… you meant that you _love_ me. I know you did, Stiles, I could feel it. And that’s… it’s perfect, man, it’s completely perfect. It’s perfect because I love you like that too.” His voice is soft, but he doesn’t look away, warm brown eyes intent on Stiles.

Stiles bites his lip, just looking back at Scott for a long moment before he finally nods. “Yeah. I do love you like that, and you loving me back is better than any orgasm you could give me. Seriously. Even though that was the actual best orgasm in the history of my life,” he grins, sounding giddy as he moves his head to nuzzle their noses together.

Scott grins back just as brightly, nuzzling back. “And I’m just getting started. Think how good I’ll be with a little… practice?” By the end of his sentence, he just sounds confused, because Stiles has wriggled out from under him and is grabbing for his clothes. “Stiles? What are you…?”

Holding his hands out to Scott, Stiles makes to tug his friend to his feet. “Practice. We’re going home, Scott, because your mom is at work and we’ve got a lot of practicing to do,” he winks as Scott clambers up as well, laughing. Before Stiles can get dressed, he’s holding out his phone. “Call Derek and tell him that he gets to sniff around for that omega, because you have important pack business to tend to. As important as it gets. Business that only the alpha can take care of.” He waggles his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Scott takes the phone, but he also grabs Stiles’ clothes out of his hands. When Stiles squeaks indignantly, Scott gives him a look. “One of us has to run back into town and get your Jeep or my bike, and I don’t think you want it to be you. So _you_ get to give me your clothes, since I think you’d prefer that to being the one who has to run all the way back into Beacon Hills.”

Stiles huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest, sinking down to sit under the tree again. “Fine. Fine, only because you know how long it would take me to run. But don’t you dare take too long while I’m sitting out here naked and alone, sad and vulnerable, soft and squishy…” 

“You’ll be fine.” Scott lifts his head and sniffs the air as he gets dressed, checks the pockets of Stiles’ jeans for his car keys. “No scent of any other wolf, and I won’t be gone long. I promise your alpha will be back to rescue you soon.” He’s gone before Stiles has a chance to speak up, so the human just sighs and shakes his head. 

Stiles should probably be annoyed, he thinks to himself, sitting alone and naked in the woods. But his self-preservation instinct has fled in the wake of contentment and giddy excitement, as he leans back against the tree and settles in. Sure, he’s not in the most comfortable spot, but his alpha, his best friend (his boyfriend, maybe?) is headed back to find him- and out of all the times that Stiles has been kidnapped, that Scott McCall has turned up to save the day, this has definitely turned out better than average. 

So he sits there to wait. Because Scott will come back for him, Scott will always come back for him. Stiles is ready for the alpha werewolf to make his heart race in all new ways… hopefully _considerably_ less danger-filled ways, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at [haleboundride](http://scottmccall.org)!


End file.
